I haven't been anywhere for so long. Nothing to see but the cobwebs crawling along the graffiti messing the walls, no one to talk to but the ones who shut me up all the time, nothing to be delighted but the food delivered every mealtime, nothing to spend time but the foam on the floor and the toilet across it.
There's a window seven feet above the floor, the only thing that keeps a measly percentage of sanity to remain in me. When the sun is out, a beam flashes its way inside my little boudoir; nevertheless, I am still deprived from witnessing the outside world. When the light starts to bid a temporal goodbye, I see nothing but the darkness enveloping me.
I have no slippers nor any footwear nor I have clothes except for this white shirt turning grey for a month now. Only once in a month I have the chance to take a bath along with the others, we don't have a similar place to settle but our cells in a row that look like a condo unit; they're my s0-called neighborhood.
Outcast to the real world we all seem. Apart from reality we've been. Apart from the outside world; a past we can no longer revive. What if all outcasts are grouped together, will they still be called outcast? Hmp, I wonder. Oh no, we can't be outcast, we are inside such cells so we're incast and the others are the outcast! This life, aloof from the reality is damn uneasy to handle but at least, we are not supposed to cope up to the other side the world.
Never I tried to count the nights and days that gone by, they only makes me upset than ever. We advice the new comers to sleep the whole day, it's too boring, so boring that I feel like going crazy. The others, they find time to take their lives in anyways possible. Some had used their utensils to stab themselves and since then, we are to eat without spoon and forks. Horrible. An instance also happened when someone suffocated himself with a pillow and again, since then we have no more pillows. Girls love to sing all the time, no matter how off tone or pitchy they are. There's my neighboring cellmate whose voice supposed to sound annoying but I thank it for breaking the thick blanket of silence. It also kept having a sound mind.
How long? I can't tell, I only rely on the frequency I bath but I chose not to count for it adds up complications. I may count the days but I decided not to pursue the attempt but I'm certainly in waiting for the stars to burst into different colors. They do, trust me.
"Meal arrived!" A deep voice says as I drool while waiting for food to come in from the small opening of my so-called room. They don't tell whether it's breakfast or lunch or dinner but as much as I know, they had random times that keeps us away from tracking the time.
I scurried to my food. It's fried chicken at last! I wonder if there's some sort of celebration. Before, whenever they serve delicious food, there's an occasion but not just an ordinary one - it's when the stars starts exploding and dancing in the sky. Stars twinkle, but swear, they actually have colors! Sometimes green, sometimes red, sometimes blue and sometimes any thing else. Ooopps, sorry! I almost forgot, actually you can't rely on me about colors, I think I've forgotten how they looked like. How does red looks like again? Anyway, that's the only time I get to see colors and it's really magical. Wailing starts from me and everyone follows; the cellmates, the guards (Oh yes, they do but not because of the stars but because they want to shut me up; rather, shut us up!)
I jump up to have a good view of the window to see the sun setting. Different shades of blue flies around the bright green sun and covers the portion of the sky, making a beautiful view of the sunset. Another time for such colors to be seen.
"Henry," A guard calls me. "What's the color of the sun?"
"Green!" I answer. These are actually the only times I have someone to talk to. I don't know why they keep on asking me but seriously, they do these all the time. Same question. Who in the world doesn't know the color of the sun? Shame on them.
The sun leaves, allowing darkness to enter and now I'm all alone. Peeping at the windows only to see blurred stars, my hopes slowly goes away. Few stars may mean no outbursts. Few stars may mean no colors. Few stars may mean no fun. Few stars may mean another wasted life. Few stars may mean sleep. Few stars may mean anything. Yet, few stars may mean nothing at all.
Just then series of pop follows, making me jump. What if... what if the stars are bursting now? Hardly I tried to cope for a clearer view. The colors that I have longed waited came to life and I jump and jump and jump.
A tear falls off down to my cheeks. I can't explain the happiness that rumbles inside me as my heart beats harder. All of a sudden I feel high, the only time I feel happy and the only time I laugh like a normal person.
Finally the stars burst like fire in the sky.